


We'll Meet Again

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Ficlet Omens [17]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Ancient Egypt, M/M, Other, POV Outsider, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley steal a night to drink and sing together, and get mistaken for gods.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ficlet Omens [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620217
Comments: 8
Kudos: 259





	We'll Meet Again

Down beside the Nile, deep in the night when the angry ghosts walked, the farmers heard singing. Two voices, twining together with an ache of eternal seperation underlying the uncanny sweetness. Most weren't foolish enough to let themselves be lured from their beds, but one youngster, sleeping on the roof to catch the cooler air, was near enough to see a little of the singers.

One was wrapped in something as dark as the night sky, singing a plaintive song with a soft huskiness that spoke of disuse, yet with silvery undertones lacing through it. It sounded as if the stars themselves were singing, if stars could sing.

The other was draped in the palest white-gold of ripe barley, singing a warmer, richer harmony to the first one's. A deeper voice, earthier, well-used, catching the plaintive tones and turning them back into a love of all the earth and everything on it.

Nut and Geb, the youngster thought they must be. Gods of the sky and the earth, once beloved lovers, now forced apart, ever close and never to touch again.

The pair passed the melody back and forth, drifting into older languages the youngster had never heard before, though the longing remained from song to song, and finally drifted into silence as first hints of dawn arrived.

And down beside the Nile, slipping away from a stolen night of song and alcohol before anyone could spot them together, Crowley (who had once made the stars, and now wore a demon's black) and Aziraphale (who had once helped to craft plants, and still wore angelic cream) went their seperate ways. Beloved of each other, forced apart, ever close, never touching, undreaming of the tale that trailed them of gods walking the world.


End file.
